


Catch and Release

by fuzipenguin



Series: Half Your Age +7 [31]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Established Relationship, Friendship/Love, M/M, Older!Twins, Open Relationships, Other, Twincest, younger!ratchet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 13:58:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20836631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzipenguin/pseuds/fuzipenguin
Summary: The war takes a bit of a turn and Ratchet falls back on old habits to make it through. Sideswipe and Wheeljack do Not Approve and resort to Drastic Measures.





	Catch and Release

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous said: probably overdone but twins bodily carrying ratch off to get some damn recharge, the to paperwork and cleaning can wait, damn it, you can't even see straight, how the pit are you still standing, let alone walking around, get some rest

Ratchet turned the corner, took two steps, and then whirled around on one heel, scurrying back the way he had come. He prayed to Primus that the red plated pain in his aft hadn’t seen him.

No such luck.

“Cuteness! There you are!” Sideswipe called out from behind him. Ratchet broke into a jog and sped down the hallway towards Spanner’s office. Spanner was off duty, but his office was always open in case any of the other doctors needed to get into the research journals the base’s CMO had stored there. Most importantly for Ratchet though, the door had a lock.

“Sorry, Sides! Busy!” Ratchet called out over his shoulder, hurrying along. Almost there… he was almost there…

“Nope!”

Ratchet felt a rush of air, and then Sideswipe darted past him, skidding to a stop just in front of the door. Performing a complicated little dance that made his lower back twinge, Ratchet just barely avoided slamming into Sideswipe.

“What do you mean ‘nope’?” Ratchet questioned, trying to be nonchalant. The way his gaze frantically darted from side to side probably belayed that.

“I know things have been crazy lately, and I’m sure you’re busy, but it’s past time you rested,” Sideswipe said, a glint in his optics that meant Ratchet needed to move fast.

“I’ve rested,” Ratchet protested, taking a step backwards. Totally just to make a little room between each other. They had almost collided, after all. He definitely wasn’t searching for an escape route or anything.

“Four days ago,” Sideswipe immediately retorted. “You know how I know? Because I’ve been sleeping with Wheeljack the last four nights. And I like Wheeljack, don’t get me wrong. But ever since he did that thing with the atomizer, he smells funny.”

Ratchet snorted and shook his head, slowly shifting his weight to his other foot. “So, really… _you_ want to rest.”

Sideswipe rolled his optics. “Don’t go there. Yeah, I’ll recharge better with you, but I’m fine. You on the other hand, have been on your feet for five shifts running. It’s not healthy.”

“And who’s the doctor here?” Ratchet demanded, propping his hands on his hips. He glared, but Sideswipe didn’t back down.

“You are. So you know better. C’mon, Sweets… your job will be easier after you’ve refueled and slept.” Sideswipe’s voice took on a cajoling tone and the set of his shoulders relaxed a little. As if he thought Ratchet was no longer a flight risk.

Ratchet pretended to consider Sideswipe’s suggestion, knowing full well that if he stopped now to recharge, he’d have triple the amount of work to come back to. The Decepticons certainly weren’t stopping, after all.

He slid his left foot back a little and to the side, tilting his head. “I don’t know…”

“Aren’t your tanks rumbling at you?” Sideswipe asked gently. “Your optics are dim; I bet it’s so hard to keep them open…”

Ratchet blinked his optics because yeah, they _were_ pretty dry and achy… no! Can’t get distracted!

“There’s too much to do,” Ratchet returned and it emerged whiny and sad, not defiant like he had wanted. Sideswipe’s expression softened and his arms started to rise up. Before he could take a step forward and draw Ratchet into an embrace he sorely wanted to indulge in, Ratchet bolted.

It wasn’t the best start. His right foot slipped a little, so the run started out as more of a flail but for a brief shining moment, he actually thought he could make it to the end of the hallway. Two turns away was a locked supply closet; hopefully once he hit a cross section, there would be someone Ratchet could shove in Sideswipe’s direction.

Alas, it wasn’t meant to be.

Seven steps later, a heavy weight crashed into Ratchet’s back and he went sprawling onto the floor. Growling, he thrashed around, elbowing every bit of Sideswipe’s taller form he could reach. “Get off me! You’re such a slagging glitch!”

“Now that’s not nice,” Sideswipe chided. “Will you… hey… Cuteness, just _stop _already, you’re going to hurt yourself. I do this for a living, you know. Well… not the keeping them alive part, but… ”

Ratchet managed to squirm onto his side and through more accident than anything, backhanded Sideswipe right across the face. Sideswipe reared back, blinking rapidly and rotating his jaw.

“Damn, Ratch,” Sideswipe said, his voice filled with awe. “I bet you’d be pretty dangerous if you started taking hand to hand lessons.”

“And _ruin_ my hands?! No, I don’t think so,” Ratchet snarled. Using Sideswipe’s momentary distraction, Ratchet surged up onto his knees and attempted to get to his pedes. Sideswipe merely hooked him around the thigh and yanked him backwards, Ratchet crashing down onto his windshield with a grunt. It only made him fight all the harder.

“I hate you,” Ratchet spat, clawing at the decking. “Just leave me alone, I have things to do!!”

“Hate me all you want,” Sideswipe said, his engine revving hard enough to vibrate Ratchet’s plating. “But you’re going to rest before you burn out.”

“I’m not going to burn out, I know my limits!” Ratchet protested, grunting again when Sideswipe threw his entire weight atop Ratchet’s back. His face was uncomfortably smushed against the floor and Sideswipe had pulled Ratchet’s right arm back, putting strain on his shoulder. If he got a dislocated joint out of all this…

Sideswipe snorted in disbelief. “Really, you sparkling? Lately, it’s all go, go, go with you until you literally drop when you run out of energy. You used to be so much better about actually taking care of yourself.”

Ratchet growled again, furious at both the name-calling and rough treatment. “I am not a sparkling…! Wha… what did you just do?!”

A small click heralded the sensation of his right arm going numb. As he froze to try and figure out what was the cause, Sideswipe grabbed Ratchet’s other arm and brought it behind his back. It also went numb a second later, and Ratchet let out an indignant shriek.

“Stasis cuffs?! You put _stasis cuffs _on me?!” Ratchet shouted. He wildly kicked his pedes, but Sideswipe made a satisfied sound and rolled off him, getting to his feet. Ratchet managed to tip over onto his side and he glared up at the other mech, lips pulled back from his denta.

“Careful. You keep scowling like that and your face might get stuck that way,” Sideswipe taunted. He leaned down and tried to boop Ratchet on the nasal ridge, but yanked his hand away when Ratchet’s denta clacked together a centimeter from his fingertip.

“I will kill you,” Ratchet promised in a dark tone. Sideswipe nodded at him distractedly, sliding his hands under Ratchet’s chest and helping him to get onto his knees.

“I think I’d believe that more if you didn’t put so much time and effort into keeping me alive,” Sideswipe replied reasonably. “Which, thanks, by the way. Love ya lots.”

A moment later, Ratchet’s world view turned upside down as Sideswipe hefted him up onto his pedes and then onto Sideswipe’s shoulder. Ugh. How undignified. 

“I will hurt you then,” Ratchet said through clenched denta. “Put me down, I can walk.”

“I know you can. You can run too and I only have the one pair of cuffs on me,” Sideswipe said. “So be a good boy and stop wriggling, will you?”

Ratchet let out another screech and did the opposite, squirming as much as he could, growling curses the entire time. Then a loud impact of metal against metal rang out in the hallway, and Ratchet froze as an ache spread over his aft.

“Stop it,” Sideswipe said sternly. “If you want to act like a sparkling, I’ll treat you like one.”

“… you _hit_ me,” Ratchet said dumbly, astounded.

“I spanked you,” Sideswipe corrected. “If you want to be technical about it, _you_ hit _me._”

Ratchet abruptly went limp, coolant welling up in his optics. His vents hitched a little and he sucked in a gulp of air, furiously blinking the tears back. He would not cry; he was an adult and he would _not_ cry. 

Sideswipe sighed heavily before coming to a stop. He leaned forward and carefully maneuvered Ratchet back onto his feet, lying his hands on Ratchet’s shoulders. “Hey… I’m sorry I spanked you,” he said quietly. At least he had the grace to look apologetic.

Ratchet shook his head. “It’s not… not that,” he said, snuffling “Well, yes, it is; don’t ever do that again. It’s just… there’s so much work… and if I rest, they’ll just be even more and I’m so _tired_…”

One of the tears managed to well up and trickle over his cheek. Arms useless, all could do was rub his cheek against the point of his shoulder, vents hiccupping.

Sideswipe sighed again and slowly slid his arms around Ratchet’s shoulders. Instead of allowing himself to press against the larger frame, Ratchet plunked his forehelm against Sideswipe’s chest. The arrhythmic pulse of Sideswipe’s spark was comforting, despite the abnormal beat.

“Are you the only one who has to do this work?” Sideswipe asked, laying a hand on Ratchet’s nape. That was almost as bad as a full hug, and Ratchet had to fight not to collapse against him. He was so warm and smelled so good, and Ratchet knew Sideswipe would coddle him in a sparkbeat if Ratchet let him.

“No. We all do. We’re all backed up because we keep losing doctors. We need more doctors. Or adjuncts,” Ratchet admitted. “Our files are a disaster. No one but the highest ranking soldiers have accurate records at this point. Inventory is a joke and we’re out of so many things. Everything’s a mess.”

“Hmm… I’m sure it’ll work out,” Sideswipe said softly.

“No! No, it won’t!” Ratchet exclaimed, taking a step back. Another coolant tear escaped, this one borne out of sheer frustration. “It’ll just keep piling up and someone’s going to die because something important isn’t in their file or we reach for something basic and there’s nothing left!”

“It’ll work out,” Sideswipe repeated more strongly, nodding in a decisive manner. 

“Sideswipe…”

“Hey! Trust me!” Sideswipe replied, giving him one of his cocky grins that Ratchet both loved and hated. “And trust me when I said you’re getting some rest, no matter what.”

Sideswipe bent down and swooped Ratchet into his arms. Ratchet groaned and hid his face in Sideswipe’s throat as they left the hallway and started towards the main Medical Bay. “I can walk!” he protested again.

At least this was a slightly more dignified position than flung over Sideswipe’s shoulder.

“I know you can,” Sideswipe said quietly. “But so can I, and I’ve actually been recharging this past week, so just let me carry you.”

Ratchet subsided a little at the gentle tone. Deep in his spark, he knew Sideswipe just wanted to help. And he knew Sideswipe was right too, because Ratchet’s processor was sluggish and his hands trembled constantly now.

Maybe just a short nap…

\--

The sad part was that Ratchet was already dozing by the time they arrived at his room. He sleepily watched Sideswipe enter the code as if he lived there, which he honestly sort of did by now. Once inside, Ratchet heard a soft exclamation and he unburied his face to see Wheeljack staring at Sideswipe in exasperation.

“You had to put the stasis cuffs on him?” Wheeljack asked. He didn’t sound surprised. Ratchet vowed it was time to find a new best friend.

“He was feisty,” Sideswipe said, as if that was an actual excuse. He carried Ratchet over to the berth and gently placed him down on the edge of it. Then he unlocked the cuffs, tossing them back into his subspace. As he stepped back, Wheeljack moved in, holding out a steaming cube of energon.

Ratchet’s tanks cramped at the sight and smell and he eagerly grasped the container. He closed his optics at the first sip, savoring it before he swallowed.

When he opened his optics, he saw Wheeljack’s fins lit up with a pale lavender, a sure sign he was pleased. Off to the side, Sideswipe had his arms crossed over his chest. He caught Ratchet looking and raised an orbital ridge in challenge.

“Fine. So I was hungry,” Ratchet said grumpily. “I could have gotten a cube from the Bay.”

“But it would have just been medical grade,” Wheeljack said, gently stroking the top of Ratchet’s helm. “It wouldn’t have been this special blend Sideswipe made just for you. Nor would it be warm.”

“Hmph… thank you,” Ratchet said after Wheeljack meaningfully nudged his shoulder. The words were practically drowned in the energon, but Sideswipe flashed him a smile anyway. Then he shifted his hands to his hips, giving Ratchet a brisk nod.

“Well, I’m off then. Got things to do,” he said, beginning to back away.

Ratchet straightened up, startled. “Wait, you’re leaving? You’re not going to...”

“Aww, Cuteness, I love sleeping with you too, but I got a project to do for one of the officers. Don’t worry, you can’t hide from me for too long,” he said. He winked at Ratchet and then headed for the door, whistling to himself. After the door closed behind him, Ratchet looked up at Wheeljack, his gyros suddenly spinning.

He grabbed onto the bed with one hand, the other still clutched around the now nearly empty cube. “Ugh… I guess I was more tired than I thought… wait… Sideswipe made this? What did he put in it again?”

Wheeljack gently took the cube away and placed it on the floor. Then he took hold of Ratchet’s shoulders and pushed him backwards until he was prone on the bed. A warm lassitude began spreading out into each one of Ratchet’s limbs and he watched Wheeljack move his body around as if it didn’t belong to him.

“Mid-grade. Silver and cadmium for flavoring… and to mask the sedative,” Wheeljack said matter of factly.

“… s-sedative?” Ratchet questioned, his mouth feeling uncoordinated. He tried to lift his head, but it felt like it weighed ten times more than normal and he couldn’t budge it.

“Yup,” Wheeljack said cheerfully. “We drugged you. That was actually my idea. Sideswipe volunteered to grab you although I really didn’t think he’d need the cuffs. You’re too stubborn for your own good, Ratch. And you know better.”

Ratchet let his optic shutters close, giving in to the inevitable. “… know. Jus… don want someone t’die because of somethin’ stupid.”

“It’ll be ok. I promise,” Wheeljack said and Ratchet wanted to say that he shouldn’t promise things like that, but recharge took him firmly by the processor and dragged him deep into sleep.

\--

When he woke up twelve hours later and traipsed back to the Medical Bay, he entered to find it nearly spotless. Mechs he only vaguely recognized as infantry soldiers were diligently disinfecting the remaining two surgical suites, which hadn’t had a good deep clean in weeks. He wandered around, peeking into supply rooms to find that their goods had practically doubled in count. Everything was organized and neat and something in Ratchet’s chest settled to see it.

Ratchet was just heading into one of the records rooms when he ran into Sideswipe coming out. Literally.

“Ow,” Ratchet complained, rubbing his nasal ridge. “What are you doing in there?”

“Nothing,” Sideswipe said breezily. “You should still be resting; you have a whole ‘nother shift before you’re back on duty.”

Ratchet peered into the room, optics widening at the neat shelves of datapads. These were the hard copies of the Autobots’ medical files. If something happened to the main power generator, medics would have these to fall back on.

“I needed… needed to get caught up… what is going on around here?” Ratchet exclaimed, twirling around in a circle. He threw his arms up in confused exasperation when he faced Sideswipe again. “Everything’s clean, our supply shelves are filled back up, and the records have all been replaced!”

“Ah. Yes, well…” Sideswipe rubbed his jaw, smearing dust over his plating. “There was a heap of people who owed me favors, so I gathered them up and asked the medic on duty… what’s his name? Archway?

“Anyway, I asked him what needed to be cleaned and how. I took some of the guys into the supply rooms to sort everything so we could restock the exam cubicles, and then I put the rest back into storage. Got a line on a guy who’ll keep you stocked; not _completely_, but better than it was. And Archway called in the rest of the medics and they had a three hour long session of updating records. Spanner did the majority of yours; said there was one or two you should probably double check. But, overall, there’s really nothing for you to do,” Sideswipe said with a little flourish of one hand.

He settled back on the heels of his pedes and looked down at his hands, frowning. He started rubbing them together, presumably to rid them of dust. Ratchet just gaped at him, processor blanked.

It finally jump-started and he jerked in place, shaking his head.

“You…”

Ratchet trailed off as Sideswipe raised his head and looked back up at him. “Told ya it would work out,” Sideswipe said softly, giving Ratchet a little crooked grin. “You know, you medics can ask for help, any time. Us grunts… we don’t have much to do outside of fighting. There’s only so many times I can hit a training drone during downtime. And I need to keep busy or else I’ll just think about… well… I just need to keep busy.”

“You…” Ratched trailed off again, helplessly. 

“You said that already,” Sideswipe replied, grin getting bigger. “Anyway, I gotta get going… I’m meeting up with one of the junior tacticals. Said he wants some help shooting his gun… if you know what I mean.”

With a salacious wink, Sideswipe stepped forward and grasped Ratchet at the shoulders. He bent slightly and placed a kiss on the top of Ratchet’s helm before releasing him. Then he walked off without a word, ever the picture of nonchalance.

And all the while, Ratchet’s mind just kept replaying the list of things Sideswipe had accomplished in the last twelve hours. Things that would have taken the medical team weeks to do amidst their main duty of seeing patients. Sideswipe acted like it wasn’t a big thing, but to Ratchet, it was huge.

As Ratchet stared at Sideswipe’s retreating back, he absently rubbed his chest in an attempt to soothe his aching spark. Stupid thing just kept feeling things that it had no right to feel, and Ratchet had absolutely no idea what to do about it.

~ End


End file.
